The riddle

Fates are not meant to be messed with. Man merely overseas his decisions by taking responsibilities towards the feuds that are of his own making, or those which he has contributed to. The ability of one person is limited to his own making because it is the individual that makes it his own reality to deserve such limitation. Such limitations are within his own conscious perception – even if his subconscious says otherwise.

There is a link between the old and new. The link is the imprint of the pathways taken. These prints, if we are talking of several pathways linking together to create a myriad of imprints as if a maze, are there for future reference. But this reference is for those who can see. The ability to see can be compared to the ability to view events of the future. For the insight is so surreal that it would endow the seer with the ability to predict future events towards his own ability. However, it is also the ability of the individual to conceptualize this sight of his own. If he is unable to do so, an unsightly scene might occur. Thus this might be what we call insanity – the riddle of the mind that was set apart for us to rethink our own reality.

To focus on those beyond our own reality is a pressing yet hard burden to bear. To even take on this task may mean insanity itself. For it is a form of altruism not present in those who conform only to the reality that has been to objectively quantified and qualified. It is the subjective and unreal construct that diminishes all sense of truth and fake. It is this which makes one different from all others. The perception of a person living in reality would clearly denote statements which derive an unwanted and non-beneficial nature towards tending towards non-reality. However ethics has managed to put a pause to this type of pondering.

Death is a reality which is neither higher nor lower than the reality of which we exist in. Man is such a categorical being that it wishes to simplify even the most abstract of matters into forms which enable their further understanding. This need to understand death provides many people the task of being seekers. However the fear of it provides a medium to which aggravation may be used to take advantage of another person. Death is a concept which bellows far and wide because people fear it, and some ironically yearn for it. But those who are willing to take those early steps to the grim reaper are those who see it within themselves. The see, feel and think of a burning hell of condemnation. But the damnation isn’t the curse – it is the condemnation of their name by the living which brings about the true fear of death. There is not one man leaving earth with no knowledge of the consequences. Lest the intent be purely from another evil there is nothing in a man’s power to make his own suicide a worthy cause that leads a good way to leaving a great not within the reign of the living beings.

As if the world would spin in circles, our own mind spins in manifestations of our thoughts and perceptions. Put a person inside a dark room and his memory and perception will start to haunt him within instants. This haunting memory is the product of the many parts of illusions and perhaps angry delusions created by the mind. The mind collects information and when it is put within a vulnerable situation there comes the problem of fear. Fear is a fretting experience towards a sudden downfall inside that dark room. The room brings back a memory of distortions from perception. Mostly it is of more darker natures, but this is due to the many conceptions of “dark” in the eyes of man. The man himself, when perceiving dark as a natural, logical process, and even perhaps a friendly nature, fears not the dark. If he learns this, he knows his own boundaries and his darkness becomes his strength. His strength lies in building his own arsenal of memories that enhance his found strengths. A dark room is no place to taunt a dark warrior, for it is his home and his manifestations only bring him more delight. It is a prison of persecution for the people of the light. This is due to the same logic that brings a man his own imprisonment.

A person trapped within his own soul is like a man who has lost his soul. Why? A reality of beings who are trapped is one of a senseless type. Of course, if following the normality of feelings and emotion, there will be residues of the human experience while within the starting period of imprisonment. This matters not to diminish the deathly nature of imprisonment, but instead to let the human realise that he was once also living in flesh and bone. The sense of loss is in such a great manner that he would be equal to those who have lost his soul. It is a sense of loss that matters. However, one who loses his soul might not know of this sensation. Until that day which he profoundly finds this truth, he will have the same sense of loss. But this is delayed for many, many times until he would find the reason of his plight.

One way to every gate is to use the one right ahead of you. All gates lead to another gate and you will eventually find that gate which you are heading to. The only this blocking you is the sense of giving up. Giving up is a need for humans because there are things that require letting go. Like the thoughts of your lost love which you cannot bring back, these things require letting go. Thus giving up of those thoughts is crucial and again making giving up a need within this human existence. Ironically it becomes a paradox when one seeks to pursue a goal. When both sense of minds meet (both giving up and perseverance) then there will be great conflict.

An identity within another is how everyone lives. He only shows one face to another person. Persons with one single identity can be known as just blind towards others, of maybe just indifferent. This non-feeling and non-empathy is a gain for many people who wish to live within their own world. For the outside world requires one to have these two skills, but without them there is only a tension brought about by other persons who look against their difference. There’s none more in pain that trying to live within a world not meant for him.

Where can you go to head down a path of light

When there is just such a dawn of war and plight

It’s a day of Valentine on World War Three

And there’s nothing you can do about it

But accept the fact that you may die any second

Of the day, of tomorrow and of yesterday

You might be dead already but still in denial

It’s a possibility that you refuse to accept your own death

Turning into vengeful spirits and souls to taunt the living

You are undead and a torment to those still living

You spread the disease of horror and rot

The rot is of the soul and the horror of the flesh

The flesh runs from your horrid sight

And the soul incinerates as you near them

Decay surrounds your every inch

One describes you as death

Though you are a lost soul

Haunting the living with your own mistakes